She's Too Busy Winning to Watch Him Cry novel Chapter 422

"Take your seats, everyone. Dinner is served," Rowan announced, cutting their chatter short.

"Yes, let's sit," Victoria Jameson chimed in. She waved over two nannies to take the twins. "Keep a close eye on them. Do not let them out of your sight for a second," she instructed firmly.

As everyone settled around the massive dining table, Eleanor Grayson couldn't help but notice Rowan uncorking the wine himself. He poured a glass for Caleb Fairchild first, then filled Waylon's glass to the brim.

Usually, the staff handled such trivial tasks. The notoriously hot-tempered Jameson heir seemed to have mellowed out significantly.

Caleb took a sip of the wine Rowan poured, his peripheral vision catching Lyra whispering with Caspian. Rowan also noticed Caleb's protective gaze and offered him a helpless, knowing smile.

Mr. Grayson asked about Vivienne Jameson's family. Commissioner Charles Jameson explained they had gone to the old estate for the holidays.

Laughter and the soft clinking of crystal glasses filled the air. Lyra sat comfortably next to her brother and sister-in-law, with Caspian on her right.

"Is Rowan going on a blind date tonight? He's dressed to the nines," Eleanor asked.

Lyra finally took a good look at Rowan. His hair was slicked back flawlessly, and he wore a razor-sharp, dark bespoke suit that accentuated his towering, broad-shouldered frame. His striking features looked as if they were carved from cold marble.

Catching Lyra's stare, Rowan's bottomless eyes met hers. "No blind date," he said, his tone unreadable.

"Not at all," Victoria added. "The Wynter family is just stopping by for a visit after dinner. Rowan doesn't even have to be here if he's busy."

The Jamesons and the Wynters had always moved in the same elite circles. Sylvia Wynter coming over was just a routine social call. It wasn't officially a blind date.

But who knew the real agenda? Grandpa Alistair was in suspiciously high spirits tonight, undoubtedly hoping sparks would fly between his eldest grandson and Sylvia.

Lyra didn't have the mental capacity to care. Ever since Alistair had collapsed at the disastrous engagement party, he hadn't spoken a word to her. The guilt had been eating her alive.

It was bankrupt.

Lyra instinctively glanced at her side. Her mother, brother, and sister-in-law were chatting happily. But a chilling memory from her past life flashed before her eyes—back then, it had been the Ford family sitting in these very seats, thriving while her own family was destroyed.

A suffocating weight pressed on Lyra's chest, her expression darkening. In her previous life, the Fairchild empire had shattered, leaving them with nothing but despair. The agonizing trauma clawed at her throat.

She looked up and collided with Rowan's intense stare. He was already watching her.

Waylon glanced at his phone, clearly reading the same breaking news, and subtly shifted his attention to Lyra.

Rowan hadn't touched his phone once. He had orchestrated the entire destruction; he already knew the ending.

Lyra lowered her head and stabbed her fork into her food, her eyes turning ice-cold. She only had one mission left: ruthlessly dump Rowan Jameson.